


You Can Trust Me

by InesStarkDowney



Series: It's a Start [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve also needs a hug, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 04:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InesStarkDowney/pseuds/InesStarkDowney
Summary: To say that Steve and Tony had problems was underrated. Yes, because Steve was begging Tony to trust him, to let him show him and Tony, well... Tony was shaking in fear and stepping forward no matter what his head told him.For God's sake, it was Steve and his fingers were touching Tony's skin.Tony could only resist Steve till a certain point, even after everything.





	You Can Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this, I showed it and some other things I wrote to my best friend and of all the things I sent her, she loved this the most, saying how good it was to see not only Tony be vulnerable, but also Steve and see how both of them had problems after Civil War. That made me the happiest girl that moment.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as she did!

"You can trust me."

Tony furrowed his brows at those words. Steve looked at him with those big blue eyes and that seriousness that never seemed to leave his features, but Tony wasn’t sure about it. Could he, though? His insides were torn in half, one pushing him towards Steve and the other pulling, shaking in fear and repeating the same thing over and over again.

 

_“Please, don’t. Please. It’ll end the same way as it did before. With you on your back and him holding you down to death. Please. Please don’t let him in close.”_

 

Either thoughts burnt Tony, but not like the cold of Siberia had or the tears that ran down his cheeks when Steve left and Tony realized what had happened. Tony almost died at the hands of Steve.

Steve saw the silent question in Tony’s mind, in his confused brown eyes, and then he saw the answer in his body, the way that from one second to the other Tony started to shake, ever so slightly, like all those months ago when Tony sought out a safe heaven in Steve, even though what he feared most was Steve himself. Steve’s heart crushed itself again, like it did every time Tony reacted like that to him, and Steve’s mind yelled, because he had been a fool that ran on chaos and now everything seemed to be broken around him.

Tony was broken and nothing, not even time, seemed to heal him. Steve wanted to heal him. No, Steve needed to heal him.

"Tony, look at me. You can trust me. Please…"

Steve held out his hand, and Tony flinched back, looking from Steve’s hand to Steve’s eyes, trying to search for the threat, but just finding out those blue eyes that haunted him in the sweetest way. The threat was there, it had to be, or his body wasn’t screaming and the sirens weren’t that loud.

"The shield is in my bedroom, it’s just me, Tony."

It was just Steve, but Steve could do a lot with just being himself. He could build Tony up so high and he could also break him down, to pieces, bloody pieces in the snow where no one could find Tony and Tony would be al-

Steve’s fingers hooked around Tony’s, like a promise of comfort, and Tony’s thoughts fizzled to just his harsh breathing, because it was comfort, and Tony wanted Steve’s whole hand in his.

Steve observed Tony intently. He looked at Tony’s face, his eyes, his parted lips, his heaving chest, and he kept going. Steve’s hand engulfed Tony’s and Steve saw the flicker of long, dark eyelashes, the dragging of gazes down with the movement. So little scared Tony, scorched Toy, marked Tony and yet so little silenced him and took his attention, claimed him. He still shook in cold, in fear, in apprehension. Tony didn’t give in. Tony took it all in, analyzed every single inch of skin, every movement of muscle under the skin, every possibility of might follow and the threats that come with it. Steve knew that right then, every possible threat was running through that genius mind, because Steve had once been a threat, a big enough threat to never stop being one from then on.

Steve had almost killed Tony.

Steve’s hand ghosted around Tony’s and, grazing he tip of his fingers over the skin, the knuckles, the veins and Tony was sighing, because danger didn’t touch like that, like art, danger burnt in an explosion, however, Tony swore Steve was danger and burning and volatile enough to burn him. Tony remembered being burnt. Tony swore, but he sighed.

Then Steve’s whole hand locked around Tony’s wrist and yes, it was danger, it was buzzing , it was loud and clear and it could crash, his bones could crash and break under Steve, under the suit, under the metal, under the shield. Tony had to pull, he had to pull-!

"Shhh, hey, hey, don’t run, Tony. I’m not locking you. I’m not. I just wanted to… touch. Just touching, Tony. Just feeling. You can trust me."

Tony looked into Steve’s eyes, Tony looked into the sadness that pooled there and Tony stopped trashing. Just touching. Just feeling. It was fine. It was fine. It was more than fine, because Steve’s fingers ran up and down his veins, and stopped long enough to feel his heart beat. Could Steve hear the fear and the need to give up, at the same time?

Steve swallowed down the tears, the lump in his throat and faded into Tony’s heartbeat, that strong, constant rhythm he almost wiped out. Steve needed to touch more. Make sure he wasn’t dreaming, he wasn’t delusional, he wasn’t crazy enough to have actually let the shield down on his throat.

Tony held his breath when Steve’s hand then curled around his neck. Steve had big enough hands for his neck to fit in them perfectly. And Steve had strenght enough to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze-

Steve couldn’t hold in the tears much more. Steve touched the soft skin in Tony’s neck and there he felt that heartbeat again. He couldn’t have done. He couldn’t. It was too precious. If not the most precious thing in his life. He couldn’t have killed Tony and watched his head roll down the mountain. He couldn’t!

Tony felt the fear dissipate into nothing at the sound of the first sob that came out of Steve. Tony saw the tears at the brim of those blue eyes, and the regret, the sadness that were already scattered around his face. Even broken, Tony thought, Steve was beautiful and perfect, the peak of human perfection, his human perfection. Tony felt his heart sped up, for the first time in months, because of love, when Steve’s thumbs brushed his cheeks and settled on his bottom lip, azure eyes looking right into brown ones.

"Tony…"

 

_'Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. It’s okay now. It’s okay now. I trust you enough to want you to kiss me. Just kiss me.'_

Tony’s mind raced, begged in silence, his heartbeat loud enough for Steve to hear, he was sure, and Tony’s body still trembled. Adrenaline, it was adrenaline. And the cold, the cold absence of Steve, because it had been too long since he felt Steve.

Then Steve’s hand dropped. Right. Over. Tony’s. Heart. Where there once had been a light and if that light had never been taken out, Tony would not be there. It might not have been the neck, but it was the heart in the end, that little light that appeared so many times in Steve’s dreams, driving him home. Driving him back to Tony. Because Tony was home and Steve could be homeless right then.

But he wasn’t, he was lucky, so lucky, and unworthy of that luck. He was unworthy of Tony. Unworthy of the fact that Tony wasn’t pushing him away right then. Because Tony was okay with that… with Steve’s hand right over his broken heart. It wasn’t perfect, but it was okay, okay enough to want it to stay there for a little while longer.

"I… Can you trust me? Can…. You couldn’t back them. You couldn’t. You couldn’t trust me. I’m… I’m sorry, Tony. I’m so sorry. You couldn’t trust me. You couldn’t trust me, Tony."

It dawned on Steve how accurate it was. How trust was a flicker of a beat back then, gone with the mention of another name. It shouldn’t have been like that. It should have been Tony and Bucky, not just Bucky. And Tony couldn’t trust Steve. And Steve was crying, apologizing because. He. Couldn’t. Trust. Steve.

"It’s okay, Cap. It’s okay. I know now. I know.", Tony murmured, voice found in the middle of all those boxer he put away.

But Steve just sobbed harder, like he sober at Bucky’s fall and he sobbed at Peggy’s funeral, and Tony still shook, because it wasn’t gone like that, but it didn’t have to linger for much longer, and in that desperate need for months, Tony drove into Steve, into his chest, into his warmth, and held on, like he once held, like he wished he held on during their fall.

"It’s okay."

"I’m sorry." Steve’s arms were finally around Tony, safe and sound, home, home, home.

"I trust you."

And that hold became a little tighter, but Tony didn’t mind. Tony didn’t mind anymore.

 


End file.
